


The Treehouse

by NovelistServant



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovelistServant/pseuds/NovelistServant
Summary: Right before Dipper and Mabel return to Gravity Falls for another summer, Stan and Ford decide to do something nice for them only for it to nip them in the butt.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	The Treehouse

Ford hummed a mindless tune to himself as he picked up the red toolbox and climbed up a make-shift ladder; he had made it by hammering planks of thick wood to a tree, leading up to where the Treehouse of Dreams was, or will be when he and Stan finished it.

It was so hot in the early summer afternoon that Ford had actually shed his trenchcoat and rolled up his sweater-sleeves, showcasing his less-gruesome scars. His six-fingered work gloves covered the old burn-scars on his wrists given to him by Bill, so he was comfortable freeing some skin in order to work more efficiently. While it was an adventure of a lifetime to sail with his brother on the Stan O’ War II, Ford found it extremely rewarding to build something bigger than a hand-held invention and to do it for two people he loved very much.

Dipper and Mabel would be back in Gravity Falls in a few hours, and when they came back, they would find a huge “Beginning of Summer” party waiting for them at the lake and a new treehouse in the woods. Stanley first snorted and said the teenagers were too old for a treehouse, but then Ford showed him the blueprints and the old conman agreed to help.

This treehouse was located about two or three rows of trees away from the Mystery Shack, enough to give a brooding teenager privacy if wanted, and it had three sections and a small deck for fresh air. The middle section was designed to be a shared space between the twins, but then they each had their own space, Dipper’s host a work-deck and a bookshelf while Mabel’s had a rocking chair (made by Ford himself and decorated with birds, gnomes, pinetrees, and other things one would find in the woods, carved into the soft, polished wood) and drawers for art supplies. There were no walls separating the sections, but Ford did have curtains that could be drawn for alone-time if desired. The whole treehouse was furnished, decorated, and ready to go, except for the last wall.

Stan walked up to the old okay tree with a glass of lemonade in his hands. He gave a low whistle. “Lookin’ good, Sixer.”

“Stanley!” Ford scolded from the treehouse. “You were supposed to be helping me!”

“I did help you!” Stan argued. “I made the walls and got the stuff up there! Now, I’ve been resting, the way old men should be, which hey, have you seen Soos’ new attractions? Genius! I dunno where he gets these ideas!”

Ford rolled his eyes and had a small smile on his lips. “Fine, fine, just get up here, you knucklehead, and help me with his last wall.”

“You got it.” Stan sat the lemonade down on the grass and climbed up in his Hawaiian shirt and tanned shorts. “Right, so what do we do?”

“I got it all set up.” Ford explained. “See, it’s a pulley system. We just pull on his rope and the last wall will swing up, then I’ll screw it into place.”

“Right, gotcha.” Stan said and grabbed the thick rope hanging above him. “Okay, ready?”

Ford grabbed the rope, as well. “Alright… pull!”

The two men worked together to pull the rope and it worked just as Ford said it would; the wall with a window came up into place just in front of the small deck (the deck was only big enough for either two small people to sit or one adult). With a small creak of wood coming together, the wall was in place.

“Hold it, Stanley.”

“I’m holding it.” Stan growled as he pulled on the rope tightly solo.

Ford quickly grabbed the power drill and used five-inch titanium screws to secure the wall; he didn’t want Steve or a Manotaur to bring this treehouse down. When all fours screws had been placed, Stan testily let go of the rope and let it hang. Ford pushed heavily against the wall and smiled proudly at his work. “Great! We’re all done!”

“Hot tamales, the kids are gonna love this place!” Stan punched Ford’s shoulder lightly. “Kinda envy ‘em, we sure didn’t have a cool treehouse like this when we were kids.”

“Yes we did, it was just shaped like a boat and on the beach.”

Stan laughed. “Right. So, ready for the party?”

“Yes, just let me put away the…” Ford was heading for the exit as he answered his brother, but he found there to be no exit. There was a door drawn on the wall by the window, but no door. Ford’s eyes widened as he saw a dilemma that Stan had not yet seen. His temper boiling steadily, Ford turned to Stan, who was admiring the homemade rocking chair, with his hands held so he wouldn’t strangle the old conman, and the old scientist asked coldly, “Stanley?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s the door-hole?”

Stan looked up and pointed at the wall. “Right there, I drew it in.”

Ford could feel a vein popping out of his forehead. “You were supposed to cut it out with the power saw!”

“Geez, Poindexter, relax!” Stan defended with his hands up in surrender. “I was gonna, just like I did with all the windows, but Wendy came to me and said Soos was doing something stupid and to grab a camera, so I decided I’d cut the door-hole later.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes!”

Ford nodded towards the wall. “So go do it. Right now.”

“Fine, I will,” Stan growled. “Moses, when did you get so bossy?” Stan stopped when he reached the wall and realized he couldn’t leave to get the power saw. He tested the wall and looked around the treehouse, ignoring Ford’s death glare. “I see the problem.”

“Oh, DO YOU?!” Ford yelled sarcastically.

“Okay, okay, so what do we do?!” Stan asked. “The little twerps are gonna be here in three hours and we gotta be at the bus stop when that happens!”

“I know, Stanley, I know.” Ford held his forehead as he tried to think. “I… oh! I’ll just unscrew this wall so you can get down and cut the door-hole.” He picked up the power drill and turned it on. He was just about to unscrew the first screw, when it shut off.

“What happened?” Stan asked.

“I… I have no idea.” Ford clicked the tool several times, but the drill would not turn on. He looked out the small window and all Stan heard was a loud, “You have got to be KIDDING me!”

“What, lemme see!” Stan shoved Ford out of the way and looked through the little window to see a deer munching on the cord that connected the drill all the way to an outside outlet of the shack. “Oh, COME ON! Hey! Get outta here! Shoo!” And the deer scampered off.

Ford dropped the useless drill. “Great, just great, you couldn’t have cut one simple exit, Stanley?!”

“Hey, you’re the idiot who didn’t notice there wasn’t a door-hole until it was too late!”

“You didn’t notice it, either! And now we’re gonna miss the niblings getting back!”

“No, we are not!” Ford said stubbornly. “We’re going to find a way out of here and we WILL be there on time!”

“And how are we gonna do that?!”

Ford ran a six-fingered hand through his fluffy charcoal-gray hair and seriously evaluated the situation. “Alright, this… let’s see… the walls are too thick to cut through with a swiss-army knife. The drill isn’t going to work. If we could either get the power saw or have the power drill working again we could get out of here.”

“Right, so how do we do either of those things?” Stan asked.

Ford leaned against the wall by the window and peered outside as he thought of a good answer. His eyes widened and he shoved his head out the window. “Mr. Gleeful! Gideon!”

The white-haired chubby child stopped walking towards the Mystery Shack and looked towards the voice. He walked towards the treehouse, all dressed up in his light-blue suit and said, “Well, Stanford! Good to see you again! My, my, what a treehouse!”

“Thank you, but unfortunately, we’re stuck.” Ford said. “Listen, could you hand us the power saw so Stanley and I can get out of here?”

“Heavens to Betsy, no!” Gideon gasped with ah and to his heart. “Carrying a sharp saw up a tree is too dangerous for wittle ole me!”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fair enough, but will you at least, please, plug that extra cord to the power drill and then plug it into the shack?”

Gideon smiled and pointed at the old man. “That I can certainly do, Dr. Pines.”

“Good, hurry it up.” Stan growled from inside the treehouse, his arms crossed over his chest.

Gideon had just picked up the dark-green extension cord when a joyful jingle met his ears. “Oo! The ice cream truck!” The kid squealed as he squished his cheeks with his hands, dropping the cord.

“Gideon!” Stan roared and made Ford move from the window so he could scowl at the kid properly. “Now you listen to me, you little troll, you better plug up the screw driver or I swear I'll…”

“Stanley,” Ford said warningly, reminding him that they were actually on somewhat good terms with the demon-child.

Gideon smiled smugly. “You know, I think I’ll let you cool down a bit in that nice ole treehouse. I’ll be back after some ice cream.” And he started to walk away.

“GIDEON!” Stan yelled. “GIDEON!”

Ford shoved Stan out of the way so he could yell out the window. “GIDEON!”

Stan shoved Ford out of the way so he could yell out the window. “GIDEON!”

“GIDEON!”

“GIDEON!”

“GIDEON!”

Stan punched the wall angrily and then yelled and shook his hand to reveal himself of the prickling pain. Ford slumped to the floor and sighed. “Guess we just have to trust he’ll come back.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. “You realize he’s not coming back right?”

“I know.” Ford moaned.

And so the two old men just sat around and tried to think of a way out of the treehouse. What really irked them was that this was a simple trap; this wasn’t like a heavily-guarded government facility or an alien prison, both of which the Pines twins had escaped from; this was a homemade treehouse for their niece and nephew with four windows and no door and no way out. Stan eventually sat in Mabel’s new rocking chair, reading a book from Dipper’s bookshelf, and Ford paced between the three sections of the small shelter in the oak tree.

Stan checked his watch. “We got two hours to get outta here.”

Ford growled and held his hair tightly. Then his eyes grew wide as a simple solution came to mind. “Wait! My cellular phone!” He yelled victoriously and pulled it out of his pocket. “I’ll call for help!”

“You just now thought of that?!” Stan yelled.

“Well, where is your cellular phone, Stanley?!” Ford snapped back.

“It died so I left at the shack to charge.”

Ford rolled his eyes and began dialing a number. “I’ll call Soos and have him come help us.”

“Great, let the handyman do his thing!” Stan said and watched as Ford called Soos and put it on speaker. It rang and rang, but no answer. Eventually Ford called a second time.

(None of them were aware that Soos had stepped into the shower before the big party and was now singing Disco Girl to the top of his lungs. “Dipper was right, it is catchy, dude!”)

When Soos didn’t answer the phone again, Ford guessed, “Maybe his phone also died.”

“No, it didn’t go straight to voicemail.” Stan snatched the phone and said, “You probably dialed the wrong number, lemme try.”

Ford took his phone back. “I think I know our handyman’s phone number.” He growled.

“Just lemme…”

“Stanley, back off!”

“Quit it!”

The two old men fought over the smartphone and even punched and shoved their opponents to try to get the valuable piece of technology, but then it slipped like a bar of soap out of their hands and flew out the window. Ford and Stan stared and then ran and crammed their faces together to see the phone had landed on the grass.

“Nicely done, Stanley.”

“You’re the one who couldn’t get ahold of Soos!” Stan then lit up and asked, “Wait, what about your magnet gun?!”

“I left it in my coat.” Ford said as he rolled down his sweater sleeves, no longer burning up from working so hard. “I don’t even have my ray gun with me.”

“What?! You always have that thing on you! You even take it in the shower!”

“Okay, one: I don’t take my weapons with me in the shower, I leave them with my glasses on my towel.” Ford defended, sticking a finger up, then he held up two fingers. “Two: you’re always on my case about being paranoid!”

“Yeah, I don’t want you to be paranoid! But I also don’t want you to be an idiot!”

“This is coming from the man who couldn’t cut a single door-hole.”

“Okay, ya know what…!”

The pointless screaming match went on until they were both hoarse and burned out, resorting in Stan and Ford to lying on the floor of the little house and stare up at the ceiling.

* * *

Dipper smiled with his cheek pressed up against his hand as he stared out the bus-window. Mabel was bouncing in her seat, her legs swinging, and her hands gripping the seat. As each new landmark looked familiar, she squealed a little bit more.

“This is so exciting, Dipper!” Mabel cheered. “We’re almost home!”

Dipper chuckled and looked at the distant mountains that were starting to appear. “We are almost home.” Waddles turned over in his sleep and Dipper rubbed his belly to give him something to do alongside wonder what his great-uncles were doing right now.

* * *

“Man, I’m starving.” Stan complained, lying with his brother lying opposite so they were shoulder-to-shoulder, but their bodies pointing away from each other; Stan’s stomach growled loudly to prove his point.

“I have not eaten since noon.” Ford looked at his own watch. “Dipper and Mabel will be here in an hour.”

“And Gideon still hasn’t come back.” Stan growled. “Little troll probably forgot.”

Ford sighed and knocked on the wooden floor. “At least we know this treehouse is secure.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, you did a good job, Genius.”

Ford smiled. “Thank you. You did help and provide necessary skills, and that was very appreciated.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan waved away and then let his hand collapse on his gut. “And, hey, while were here, what made you wanna build this in the first place?”

The eldest twin shrugged (as much as one can when lying down). “I wanted to do something nice for the kids.”

“I think they would much rather see you than get all this.” Stan teased.

Ford chuckled nervously. “You’re probably right.”

“Hey, a broken clock is right twice a day.”

Ford sat up and asked, “Did you hear that?”

“Relax, it’s not some monster, that’s just my stomach again.”

“No, Stanley,” Ford stood up and looked out the window on the left wall, the section of the treehouse designed for Dipper, and gasped, “Mr. Shmebulock! Mr. Shmebulock! Over here!”

Stan got up and joined his brother. Sure enough, sitting on a tree branch and munching on an acorn was an old speechless gnome. He smiled at the sight of the old Pines men and cheered, “Shmebulock!”

“Yes, hello!” Ford held out his hand and the gnome, who was about the same size as Ford’s six-fingered hand, sat and allowed the human to bring him into the treehouse. “Listen, we need your help. We’re trapped here and Mabel and Dipper will be back any moment now. Can you…”

“Shmebulock?” The gnome gasped with smiling eyes.

“Yes, Mabel and Dipper are returning, so we need you… hey!” The gnome had hopped off Ford’s hand and then climbed down the tree and started to scamper away. “Mr. Shmebulock! Mr. Shmebulock, please!”

“Get back here you little pest!” Stan demanded, but the gnome had gone off to greet the niblings when they returned. “If you try to make my niece your queen again I'll…”

“Stanley, let it go.” Ford moaned and collapsed into the chair of Dipper’s desk. “What do we do now?”

Stan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “What can we do?”

No one had an answer for either question.

* * *

Right on time, at six o'clock, the bus pulled up to the stop in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Dipper and Mabel grinned with their luggage in hand, pig at their feet, and waiting at the steps of the bus, and they were greeted by Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, Gideon, and Pacifica. The twins ran off the bus and jumped into their friends’ arms. Soos wrapped each twin up in a big bear-hug, cutting off the air-flow in their necks, until Mabel was pulled into a girls’ hug by Candy and Grenda and Wendy traded hats back with Dipper; he had enjoyed Wendy’s ushanka even in the warm California sun, but it was good to sport his pinetree cap again.

“We missed you guys SO much!” Mabel cheered.

“You talked to us, like, every day.” Pacifica said as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but now I can attack you with love!” And the brunette wrapped the blonde up in a tight hug before she could be stopped.

“Hey, where’s Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked casually.

“Yeah, the party can’t start without them!” Mabel said.

“Don’t worry, dudes,” Soos reassured. “They’re probably already at the party.”

“OH NO!” Gideon yelled, slapping his cheeks in shock, and he turned red as he began to confess a mistake he had made for the sake of ice-cream.

* * *

Stan was hitting his forehead against the back wall of the treehouse. Ford knew he sometimes did this to try to think clearly. He just sat by the drawn-door and watched, having an idea of when he should intervene his brothers possibly harmful way of coming up with a plan.

“Stanley, this treehouse won’t be very appealing if you manage to get blood on the wall.”

Stan stopped and looked down at his watch. It was twenty minutes after the kids were supposed to be back. “Alright, that’s it!” He yelled, a new wave of adrenaline coursing through him as the idea of not seeing the kids drove him crazy. “That’s it! We’re finding a way outta here!”

“How?” Ford asked.

“You could try asking for help.”

The men were frozen, but then fought over who could look out the window first until they resorted to sharing. Sure enough, Dipper and Mabel stood at the foot of the oak tree with their little group of friends behind them, all biting their lip and snickering.

“KIDS!”

“Wow, cool man-cave, guys!” Mabel called.

“Yeah, this gives the Manotaurs a run for their money.” Dipper sneered.

“Just shut up and get us outta here so I can hug you two knuckleheads!” Stan yelled.

Mabel saluted and said, “Yes sir! C'mon, Soos you make sure the saw’s plugged in, Dipper and I will go up there!”

“Hold it!” Wendy called out, then pulled out her phone and took a quick picture of the old men trapped in the treehouse. “Hehe, blackmail.”

“You’re fired.”

“You’ve fired me fifteen times, Stan, and I’m still here.” Wendy replied coolly.

The kids all laughed as Dipper and Mabel climbed up to the small deck, Wendy handed them the saw, Soos made sure it was plugged in, and then Dipper and Mabel called out a warning and started to cut an exit. Stan and ford backed up as the younger pair of twins carefully cut a door-shaped hole and soon a big piece of wood fell forward, freeing the older pair of twins.

Mabel blew on the saw, which was unplugged by Soos to make sure it was safe, and then she asked, “Now where’s that hug we were promised?”

She ditched the saw and ran with her brother into Ford and Stan’s arms as they got on their knees and were happily reunited for another summer.

**Author's Note:**

> So if there is ONE thing I’m disappointed in the GF fandom for (besides BillDip and ANY incest shipping) is that there are NO Drake and Josh references! I can think of at least twelve episodes that would fit PERFECTLY with the silver foxes! Seriously, am I just in the dark or crazy or has no one else made that connection? 
> 
> Anywho, thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, telling me what you thought. Have a great day!


End file.
